While My Guitar Gently Weeps
by FelinesAndPhoenixes
Summary: Songfic. Roger is thinking about some things at Mimi's funeral. Very vague Roger/Mark if you tilt your head and squint.


**Title: **While My Guitar Gently Weeps

**Summary: **Roger is angsting at Mimi's funeral. Songfic to While My Guitar Gently Weeps by the Beatles. Think of the Across the Universe version. Very slight Roger/Mark. If you squint.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own rent, I don't own the Beatles, I don't own anything. Bloody hell!

**Author's Note: **I've been threatening to write this one for a long long time and I've finally gotten around to it because I'm procrastinating typing Archaeology notes for my friend. Geez, I'm such a stunningly wonderful person, aren't I?

They were fighting again. Roger wasn't sure why he'd expected anything different though. They always managed to fight at funerals. Standing in the cemetery, everyone glaring daggers at each other wasn't exactly how his plan for Mimi's funeral had gone, but….it seemed to be the group norm. The last time they had all been together in circumstances like this had been Angel's funeral and it hadn't gone much better. At least the actual funeral had been nice. He thought that she would have approved.

_I look at you all, see the love there that's sleeping  
While my guitar gently weeps._

He looked at each of them in turn, one to the next, sorrowfully. Getting along would clearly be too much to ask. There was obviously a deep love within the group, but the people needed to learn how to express it. Especially Mark. He turned to the filmmaker who was staring off towards the church, looking lost in thought. Mark who'd been his best friend for as long as he could remember, Mark who'd been the one by his side while Mimi was dying. He loved Mark. Really he did, but my God….the man needed to live a little. There was only so much time.

Glancing from Mark to the others, he sighed. Mimi would have wanted all of them to live for today. So would Angel for that matter. What the hell were they doing?

_  
I look at the floor and see it needs sweeping.  
Still my guitar gently weeps._

There were so many things that had to be done, things that had to be said. He'd be damned if he left a single thing undone or unsaid before it was his time to go. Which could be any day. It was the nature of the disease. Mimi had said that he had to keep living, that he had to be happy. She'd told Mark to make sure that he didn't dwell on her death. They'd meet again one day… He sat down on a tree stump in the graveyard and lost himself to his thoughts.

_I don't know why nobody told you  
How to unfold your love.  
I don't know how someone controlled you  
They bought and sold you._

He was brought back to awareness by Mark's voice. "Roger?" Mark asked.

"Huh?" he replied, blinking and glancing up at Mark. "Oh. Hi." He glanced around the cemetery. "Everyone is…gone?"

"Yeah," Mark said. "We're going for dinner. I told them that we'd catch up. You seemed to be…somewhere else. I didn't want to interrupt." Silently he sat down beside his old friend.

Roger looked at Mark contemplatively, wondering if he ever really interacted with anyone but him this way. He didn't seem to treat any of the others the same way. It was almost as if he thought that Roger needed extra attention. Well, yeah, it was a funeral, but he was going to be fine, right?

He was actually slightly more concerned for Mark. The man seemed to depend on him far too much. What was going to become of the filmmaker when he was gone? Damn it, he would force the others to keep an eye on him.

There had to have been someone in Mark's past…he didn't seem to know what to do if he didn't have a purpose. Or if he wasn't been manipulated by some crazy woman. Someone was always controlling the man. He was constantly doing whatever whichever current girlfriend…..but there hadn't been one since Maureen…asked of him.

_I don't know how you were diverted  
You were perverted too.  
I don't know how you were inverted  
No one alerted you._

He sighed suddenly, and Mark looked over at him. "Alright?" Mark asked simply, tilting his head at the songwriter.

"Yeah," Roger said. "I'm actually….sort of worried about you." He waved his hand dismissively as Mark opened his mouth to speak. "No, really. This has made me realize…that I don't have forever. And someone's going to have to watch out for you when I'm gone, right?" He laughed almost hysterically, disregarding the fact that it was the introverted cameraman who watched out for him.

Mark….Mark had given up his own dreams to work for Buzzline…thank God that was over. He didn't need these diversions. He'd produced his first film not long after Roger had come back from Santa Fe and he didn't need any more distractions or diversions. Like mourning his best friend. He needed to live. For all of them.

Mark frowned at him. "Don't say things like that." _Why am I the witness….and when I capture it on film, does it mean that it's the end and I'm alone? _With a sigh, he reached down and took his friend's hand and said, "none of that matters. What matters is now. No day but today, right? We'll manage, you and I."

Roger sighed and rested his head on Mark's shoulder, eyes closed, fighting tears. Yeah, Mark had always been there for him. Mark always would be there for him. And when he was gone….Mark would be fine. Just like he was going to be fine without Mimi. It was what she would have wanted, and it was what he would want when he was gone.

The pair sat in the cemetery in silence for a while before Mark prodded him and reminded him that they were meeting the rest of the group at the Life Café.

_I look at you all….Oh….  
Still my guitar gently weeps_

Sitting in the restaurant with everyone together, even Benny, Roger was again struck with the odd sorrowful feeling. There would be more life, more death, more fighting….but they would always be together. He hoped.

**Author's Note: **Oh, Lord my dialogue sucks. I can't seem to manage to pull of cute for the life of me. This is pretty much crap, and doesn't necessarily follow the song, but I wanted to write it, since I've been planning to for so long. Hopefully y'all don't think it's as heinously bad as I do.


End file.
